Nightfall
by misericordia98
Summary: She spent all this time trying to avoid being in his way, thinking it's the right decision, but today, for unknown to her reasons, she changed her mind. Maybe standing in his way was better. Yep, it's smuff again. /One-shot/


**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto**

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_A/N: Yeah, I know. I have no chill with the smuff. It's December. The end of it. __The end of the year. The end of the decade. Everything's wrong. But I just had to write this down because it was in my head this whole week and I couldn't get it out or shove it away (if anyone is wondering why my ShikaTema fanfics got all those bdsm vibes every time, that's a headcanon of mine lol) Enjoy._

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**Nightfall**

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Temari slowly brushed the kitchen towel against the darker stains on the counter, a barely noticeable smile playing on her still overall composed features. Her movements were calm and quiet, but the truth was, laughter was bubbling somewhere in her chest and she did a good job at pushing it down by far. At least that was something she was very good at, keeping her cool.

The sound of a vase crashing into the wall somewhere behind her didn't faze her, but she had to purse her lips harder and press against the oil stain a little more intently, to channel her exhilaration somewhere that it wouldn't do harm.

_"I swear-" _The angered whisper reached her ears and she glanced back for a moment, the breath of air coming out of her as an exhale of amusement. If he went on like this, she'd burst out laughing soon. And that would definitely be a disaster since he asked for a complete silence a while ago. And when he asked for something specific, she obeyed.

Gaara came to Konoha this weekend, together with Shinki, and naturally, asked to spend time with his nephew. Temari was hopeful about that encounter because Shikadai had all the symptoms of wanting a big brother lately and Shinki kind of fit the description. Shikadai wanted to meet his cousin long ago and they finally managed this summer vacation.

The windows were opened wide and the air had not shifted in the least since the morning, which didn't bother Temari even for a second, since her hometown was usually like this during most of the time of the year. But the intense heat was a rarity and not part of Konoha's repertoire, as far as she was acquainted with the village, and it affected citizens way more than her.

Summer haze did wonders to the moods of most people she knew from Konoha, but Shikamaru was not one of them. He would always sleep on scorching days like this, but now that he was The Hokage's advisor and a deputy of Konoha in the Union of the Nations, things changed a little. Konoha constantly worked on advancing, in every possible field, and if his father only had to develop a collective way of using war and defence strategies, it was up to him to create new ones. And that wasn't all, he was also responsible for the new technologies that the Nations improved and sometimes, he was the one who created those technologies as well.

Overall, Temari knew he had it rough lately, but doing all that during the worst days of Konoha's summer, she imagined, was kind of a torture.

She turned around and leaned on the counter, folding hands. He was in his informal kimono, sitting among a sea of scrolls, documents and ink, all splattered across the whole dining room, all over the low table and spread at all sides, and his lips strung a series of words and numbers quietly, with an intense furrow.

He grabbed one of the documents and crumpled the paper in his fist angrily, throwing it against the nearest wall.

"It's not just a random variable, dammit," He whispered feverishly, through a quickened breathing, and relaxed back in some kind of defeat. Then he took a pen from the ones that were scattered around him and, with renewed passion, scribbled one quick line on the closest sheet of paper, backed away to look at it for a moment. Then he scratched it with a mouthed, sharp curse and pulled the rim of his kimono with exasperation, pushing away the whole upper part as if the matter somehow suffocated him. "Brackets. All of them raised… should make the sum of variations. Why the hell is…?" He groaned, his gaze running over the heap of scrolls on his left.

Temari absently bit her lip, rubbing her thighs together with a single, brief motion. The heat was one, but watching him mentally breakdown over statistical issues only he could understand, all the while dying of heat, was sexy on a whole new level. It's been days on end, watching him anguish over issues forwarded by the Union or the village's office. The deadlines mostly drove him crazy because he hated working within a limited range of time. The heat was kind of a cruel irony of fate in this case. He's never loved it either.

All the Nara residences flickered with warm light in the distance when she looked through the opened window across her. It was heavy nightfall and there was still no sign of any breeze or a fresh whiff of air. It was much like the nights back at her beautiful Suna, but they lacked one substantial element, which made them all less preferable now. Her deep green eyes shifted on Shikamaru when he let out another sound of disproval and slowly inhaled.

She slowly tugged at her panties and let them fall down, stepping off. Her steps weren't supposed to draw his attention, she knew he was not going to notice her at all. That's why she unhurriedly went to lock the front door, smiling to herself, and returned to the dining room, removing her summer dress as she stepped into the room.

When he sank in that state of fervid seeking of an answer or a solution, when his brain was just elevated to a field of play that only Nara had access to… he was in his element and it was a joy to observe him.

But then sometimes he got stuck. Like he was now. And he just reiterated one and the same in an endless cycle of mental agony, and she had seen him get frustrated and angry and she always hated seeing him like that. He felt powerless and that made him feel useless. If his mind couldn't solve what he wanted it to solve, then he felt like his whole identity was false, like he was a failure and worse than his predecessors in some way. It wounded his ego in a very specific way and it saddened her to see him on days like those because he was unhappy and mad at everything and hating himself.

So she decided to intervene. The idea occurred to her long time ago and she never tried executing it. It had to work this time, otherwise, she feared he would soon fall into the blackest of moods where she didn't want him to be.

Temari lingered next to the door for a while, removing the bands off her hair and massaging her scalp without tearing her eyes off her husband. The pale mosaic of his muscles shifted at every breath he took and she almost gave out a voiced sigh. He could be in five layers of clothes and still make her wet, with that terminological tirade he had the habit of sharing out loud, helping him think better.

Exposing her to that sight, though, it was downright unfair. As far as she was aware in her limited experience, men usually picked either intellect or looks. Shikamaru was some kind of an error in the system that possessed both and he was all hers. It made her body ache with delight.

"All n-factionals have to be divided into the probabilities, but it's not working. It's not working." Shikamaru broke the pen in two in another fit of rage, but then his eyes glazed over, his laboured breathing remaining the loudest noise in the room.

He was just about to reach the borderline, letting a few piles of paper crumble away his determination and upset him. Temari slid down the wall and sat on the ground, a little bit curious about what she'd witness next if she waited just a little more. She reached for her bra and unclutched it. Thank goodness, their house was closest to the forest and the Naka River and there was practically no chance of anyone passing by the windows. It was even better that it was the weekend.

Shikamaru glared at the papers in front of him in a few moments of silence and then exhaled sharply, clenching his fists. His forehead was shimmering with sweat when he suddenly turned to her, not previously aware that she sat across the room fully naked and looked at him. His state of frustration did not change in the least and so didn't her calmness.

Her appearance seemed to click the logical mechanisms in his head and it was his turn to tilt his head at her, and she could swear that motion alone was what sent a heavy heat wave through her. The flicker in his eyes was feral, she could see that same kind of madness the lack of intellectual breakthrough brought him. He was infuriated that his genius was not enough, possibly already seeking other fields to prove his dominance. She knew he took pride in his mental abilities and now that pride needed saving.

His palm pressed against the wooden floor of their traditional home, making it slightly creak under the pressure, and the darkness spread underneath, entwining and expanding rapidly. It reached her and slowly surrounded her. Her eyes followed the darkness whirl and twist around her before they fixed on Shikamaru. She got off the wall and shifted towards him on all fours, trying to not get distracted by the preying murk around her.

"How is the binomial distribution going?" Temari asked, softly, and the words visibly did damage. Shikamaru was simmering, squinting at her approaching form. Something told her she wouldn't get what she wanted, at least not immediately.

Temari was near when her hand reached for him, almost touching, but the Shadow Binding grappled around her limbs and tugged at her before she could make the contact, prostrating her on her back harsh enough to make her writhe. It was as if cold, misty rings pulled her to the ground with a strong gravitational force and she couldn't move. She didn't want to. He quickly loomed over and stared at her wildly.

"I…" His took a sharp breath, leaning closer. "It's not going anywhere. I _can't-_" His voice broke off, the shadows crawling up the walls and windows, intensifying the darkness when he turned to look at the papers again, with visible torment in his gaze. "I can't…"

She realized the shadows had let her go now and she wanted to lose no time before he realizes he had lost the hold on her.

"Shikamaru," Temari loosened his kimono, using the moment he was still distracted, leaning in to speak against his ear. "Have a break, ok?" Her fingers skimmed over his skin absently, sliding up to his shoulder blades.

"No, you don't understand," Shikamaru turned to her, the words coming out of his mouth bitterly. "I can't do it and it will haunt me for the rest of my life. I am a disgrace. My son will hate me."

Temari wanted to speak, but he had focused on her now and stormed a harsh, deep kiss upon her, his hands roaming her body and pushing her legs apart eagerly. She smiled into their kiss, feeling a little dazed by the stellar change of his moods today. He was like an entirely different person when he solved problems and he always reminded her of what Yoshino had told her about Shikaku on days like that.

That was when he became the opposite of his normal self. Frantic and picky and needy, and he usually had no idea how to deal with that unfamiliar rush of adrenaline and testosterone and high intolerance of… practically everything and everyone. The times when he was a massive bundle of nerves and _that_ dramatic, though, were extremely limited and were usually a private show for her eyes only. She spent all this time trying to avoid being in his way, thinking it's the right decision, but today, for unknown to her reasons, she changed her mind. Maybe standing in his way was better.

"Temari," He sighed, in-between the ply of their tongues and she couldn't help the pleasant shiver that ran through her body.

That desperate tonation was very rare and she was torn between sinfully enjoying it and wanting to extinguish it as soon as possible. He wasn't supposed to be that labile, at least she never remembered hearing Shikaku being so… Temari gasped for breath, slightly pulling back to look at Shikamaru, her hands gently cupping his face.

Shikaku used to drown in alcohol a lot, that was where he faltered. Shikamaru never did that and she suspected he did not want to mirror his father's weakness, keeping all kinds of deteriorating substances at bay. That was supposed to make him the better of them both. But there was no way a mind like that wouldn't falter at some point. And when the ultimate control slipped away, he didn't feel the better one.

She was used to him being utterly unbothered and detached from the world, and having him panic like that was so intriguing to her. Her worried eyes ran over his pained features and she shook her head a little. All these years, he still believed he could do everything by himself and it never occurred to him to ask for help.

Her back slightly arched against his burning skin, her legs weaving around him in the way she knew he liked. "Go on," Temari ordered, her hands wrapping around his neck and leaning in to kiss him before he questions her strange observation.

The sudden drop in the temperature, the chilliness… it sent shivers down her spine and she could see in her periphery, the room slowly losing its colours to the cold, immense shadow. The fact that he had completely ignored it was what made her stomach curl with uneasiness. Alright. Distraction. Quickly.

"If you want to go on with your work, I can leave." Temari teased through a breathy chuckle, and he moaned a strained _No _against her lips, his hand resting on her hip as he pushed against her entrance, tautening her body even more.

Eyes closed, she realized her head was thrown back not until his lips didn't trace her neck, slowly and steadily, and she moaned quietly. He drove his body against hers and her lips parted open with the fiery sensation, nails harping at his skin at random. Her mind went blank at the next thrust, when their voices merged in a simultaneous sigh of pleasure and she almost forgot the whole plan of her intentions.

He was inconsistent in his pace and too chaotic for her to feel any pattern, his shadows clutching her hands over her head all over again, while his hands teased and carelessly pressed and bruised her, and she loved every second of it. There was something odd in the way he wanted to trace her curves and follow her forms without her being able to object or interrupt him, with her hands and legs securely clinched in sweet torture.

It was partly a play, she knew the taint of it in the way he touched, and partly something she couldn't quite understand. The supremacy that burned in the black of his eyes, it was subtly frightening. It sometimes chilled her to the bone, to recollect some of Ino's stories about what he did during the War. And Yoshino was kind enough to warn her that with all of the implications of mercilessness in Shikaku, there seemed to be some vein for unhealthy sadism running down the generations of this clan, remaining very much concealed behind feats of intelligence. It was not long after she married that she recognized what her mother-in-law meant.

His breaths came sharper against her lips and she heaved up, tearing at the shadow clutch harshly just so that she could touch him back, but a muffled sound of amusement came from him when his fist closed and the ties pulled her back down on the floor harshly with a shiver of pain through her unnerved body. The cuffs already carved sharply into her wrists and she was certain there were deep red marks on them at this point. It was hellishly bittersweet to have him move against her freely, while she was not allowed to touch back.

She whimpered, lidding her eyes open. "Let me go."

A small smile appeared on his lips as he breathed out against hers.

"Why?"

His hands traced the roundness of her breast as he shifted the angle with another thrust that made her writhe and moan beneath him, her hips grinding against him in an open and welcoming motion. He breathed in the scent of her hair when her lips came close to his ear and nibbled at the skin, "Because I say so."

After he locked his eyes with hers, Shikamaru submitted to her wish, releasing the hold of the shadows at last, and she used the freedom to rapidly switch their places, gasping for breath for one long moment. His gaze ran over her bare form with admiration and amusement. Still breathing heavily, her fingers closed around his necklace and pulled him closer to her face. The cold, misty touch of his shadows crawled up her body as he stared back at her competitively and with a heavy glaze of lust in his eye, sending an electric bolt down her spine. The insolent bastard.

With the back of her mind, she was aware of the still impending darkness in the room, even though he was fixed on her now. As long as he had a focus, she hadn't distracted him, so she set another plan. To remove the focus entirely.

Taking deep sips of breath and not bothering to remove the golden locks of hair that stuck to her skin, her hands leaned on his chest. She straightened up a bit without losing their eye contact, grinding slowly to try and see how it feels like. She had to bite her lip at the pleasant wave that ran over her once, at the touch of relief against her body's lingering uneasiness from before she had the upper hand, and twice, at the Shikamaru's sudden frantic breathing and the tint of tension in his body that seemed to trouble him immensely.

Temari heaved up again only to come down sharply and Shikamaru shivered sensibly beneath her, gripping at her skin like he wasn't sure whether he wanted her to stop or not. Grinding worked for her, but friction always dissipated all control and wrecked all his defences.

Impatiently, she began to move up and down, at first carefully, but then building up a steady tempo and she could swear that she loved nothing more than to torture him with the pace and watch, at that sweet cycle she created. His breathing was torn and unsteady, his discomfort seeping through his failed attempts to get used to her. The pressure of his hands as they rested on her hips always heightened, when she backed away, and when she ground down his voice echoed with a low, guttural growl that she rarely managed to bring out.

The shadows, she noticed, they scattered away and disappeared second by second.

She leaned in a little, without breaking her rhythm, her lips apart at the constant heat waves that hit her at every thrust, hoping to find the will to keep going, but then he decided to pull her to himself, sitting up to meet her with a series of needy groans against her neck.

"Please don't stop," His breath tingled her skin weakly and she tilted her head to find his mouth, clashing against it hungrily. Kissing was the most fun to her when he was falling apart and was too aroused to reply properly. He was completely consumed by her and it made her stomach tumble with the feeling.

"You never last that long." Temari puffed out a hollow laugh. At this point she probably didn't even need to bounce to make an impact, he was shuddering and sensitive to every sound and move she did.

"Don't… jinx it." He managed to say before hiding in the crook of her neck with a muffled groan, followed by a shaky sigh. "You're so soft."

His weird statement hit her with a momentary daze and her instinct drove her to increase the pace even further and further, until one her thrusts came sharper enough to send her over the edge. It wasn't exactly in her plan, but she welcomed it, the warm pleasure spread all over her pulsed heavily and her body contracted intensely in harsh ripples against his.

_"No, I-"_ Temari cried quietly, lost in the struggle to keep herself intact, fighting against the fatigue and for her desire to keep going. Shikamaru was still delightfully strained and trembling in her arms so she went on, his pleas exchanged for a cluster of whispered curses that he ceased abruptly at the nearly lost high that finally hit him, his hectic breathing suddenly intercepting clearly enough for her to hear. His hold on her loosened and he collapsed back on the floor under her astonished eyes.

Temari slowly bent over him in utter bewilderment for a few long seconds, staring down at him at a complete silence and ignoring the full dissolve of the shadows around her. She breathed heavily, still drowning in disbelief. Did he just… blackout? Wow. She always thought she was good, but not _that _good. That never happened before.

Temari leaned closer with a breathy chuckle, her lips touching his lightly, to try and call him back. There was something very weird going on in his body on days like this and she was just full of surprise every time. Shifting caused another shiver of pain to go through her and she furrowed a little. Her wrists were all red and so were her knees, from scraping against the hard floor. She had to definitely cover those up before Gaara comes back with the boys.

Temari tilted her head a little, licking her lips. Knowing her husband, exhaustion caused him to sleep an extra half a day so if they weren't so inconveniently having sex in the middle of the dining room, she would've left him to sleep and stare at him for hours while he did so. Unfortunately, she couldn't do that now. She whispered his name quietly, with the intentions to wake him up without additional stress and it worked fine.

Shikamaru took a sharp breath, opening his eyes and just stared up at her with the deepest confusion she's seen on him. If he thought she'd give hints as to what happened, he was wrong. Instead of opening the subject, he gasped, quickly sitting up and carefully shifting her away from him. Then he held her by the arms and stared at her a little more as if forgetting what he was about to say for a second. She was biting her lip hard, waiting to hear what he had to say. Something definitely excited him.

"I forgot to multiply them all separately." He announced, in the end.

"Hey, _what-_" Temari mouthed, with half-worry, half-amusement on her features as she sighed, pulling his kimono from her side in order to cover her body. On the other hand, Shikamaru had no intentions of getting dressed, apparently, already busy writing down something with a comical intent. Seems like he wasn't stuck anymore. Good. She set herself up to watch again.

Temari had to remind herself her husband was the smartest man in all of the Five Nations, which made him one of the wonders of the world, and on days like that he wasn't her usual Shikamaru. Especially now, when he suddenly remembered her presence, after ten minutes of her sitting next to him with her wrists, knees, lower back and thighs still aching like hell.

He faced her, with a look of surprise in his eyes. Like he hadn't expected to see her there at all.

"Uh… that's mine." He reached for his kimono and pulled it, despite her high-pitched squeak.

She refused to return it to him so she ended up covering both of them with it instead and her clinging to him and sitting in his lap as he continued writing without bothering to reflect on her naked body or her close presence whatsoever. And she had the time of her life, kissing his temple and quietly speaking in his ear nonsense he wouldn't even remember.

There was a constant smile on her lips during the time he was writing, but she was not exactly prepared to meet his next move. As the day was going on strangely, she thought how he always fell asleep after they had sex. Now, he just morphed into his usual calm self. At one point he stopped, with a deep sigh, deciding to lay down and relax without warning her, in the middle of the room, he just casually looked back at her and said, "Thanks for the input," before turning around and setting himself to sleep without even asking for his clothing. Naturally, Temari nearly choked dead on laughter. Her Suna nightfalls have always been nice, but none of them had Shikamaru Nara in them.

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_A/N: Thanks for reading and happy holidays!_


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